


Unwanted Guests

by GodOfWar



Series: The Nice And Accurate Compendium Of Dealing With Bureaucracy As Told By Slightly Irritated Angel And Demon Entirely Done With This Shit [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angels can be bad too, Angst, Aziraphale has a lot of rather questionable books, Bits of fluff, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Crowley is perhaps too nice, Damage to Wings, Gabriel crying, Healing, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love, M/M, Other, Pain, Serious Injuries, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Wings, because it just rocks my boat when he is healing okay?, tentatively
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 06:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20596487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfWar/pseuds/GodOfWar
Summary: It's a continuation of tumblr user shego1142 fic (link inside). Gabriel and Beelzebub find themselves in rather precarious position and are forced to look for help in unlikely place. Enter Aziraphale and Crowley who would rather drink their tea in peace, thank you, but needs must.





	Unwanted Guests

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unwanted Guests](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/518693) by shego1142. 

> Can't really stand alone, guys, so go and give the author much needed love :)

“I think, it would be good thing if you find some of your more special books, angel,” muttered Crowley without leaving his place between Aziraphale and the door. Nearly out of his vision, two beings set, one pressed tightly into the other, trembling and surrounded with such an aura of pain and misery that it would made Satan proud. He turned slightly toward his lover. 

Aziraphale was standing. His hands shook lightly with the realization of what kind of trouble they invited, but it was not enough to stop him from picking up two cups and filling them with one of his special blend teas. The kettle was once again put in its place and for the moment the only sound was the cheerfully bubbling water. 

“Wards?”

“Wards.”

“I’ll call Miss Device, she probably will have something to say on that matter. What you are going to do, my dear?”

“Hopefully patch up those three ounces of asshat so he doesn’t bleed on anything expensive.” Aziraphale chuckled appreciatively and then with a firm nod he took the full cups and stepped into, what could with a grand amount of imagination, be called a living room. Crowley swallowed down his own apprehension and grabbed the heavy wooden chair, dragging it behind himself until it stood in the center of the room. Carpet suddenly decided it was a great day to be somewhere else, clothes found better corners to hang out and books slipped away to gather some more dust.

“Finish that, strip and sit, arms on the back. I’ll be with you in a moment.” Crowley sauntered across the room and disappeared somewhere coincidentally close to apothecary, quietly cursing. 

_Wings._

Damnation.

The rather young and waifish lad standing behind the counter got progressively more nervous as the list of items grew steadily on. Crowley had a momentary feeling of...something, but it was enough to put the wad of notes that far exceeded his total and walk away before it grew into anything named. 

He stepped into the room to see Archangel Fucking Gabriel actually sullying his vessel with tea while sitting shirtless on the chair. 

Will wonders never case? 

Aziraphale greeted him with that ‘I’m very polite but rapidly loosing my shit’ smile he had whenever somebody actually wanted to buy one of his books and was fighting the urge to grab them by their collar and threw them away on the street. It melted right off into something approaching relief, before he stood up, excused himself and went right past Crowley, their fingers brushing over crinkly plastic bag as he went downstairs.

“What? Where is he...?” Beelzebub turned slightly, their small frame twisting to look past the other demon, suddenly more on edge then a moment before. 

“Somebody upstairs will finally figure out where you went, there is not that many options. Aziraphale has...books. The kind that you rather banned from humans some ages ago. Enochian. Hebrew. Quite a few in Sanskrit, too. If another angel or demon steps close...I’m sure you get the idea.”

Crowley upended the bags on the sofa, right next to Beelzebub. They picked up one of the bandages packed in foil and scrunched their nose at it. Crowley left them to it, instead going around Gabriel’s back to assess the damage. He barely touched the first feather before Gabriel half twisted, his eyes wide, long fingers wrapped around Crowley’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” Beezebub dropped the bandage and was halfway of their set before Crowley patiently, one finger after the other unwound Gabriel’s hold.

“Healing. Unless you want to discorporate? “

“But...”

“No, Aziraphale has very little to none idea how to heal beyond miracles, and you,” Crowley paused, looking into deep violet eyes over the rim of his glasses, ”you will not be doing any miracles for some time. Any more on yourself or by yourself and it will be years before you will be able to fly and not feel pain as you do. That’s why we are doing it the human way. It will take longer and will be hellishly painful, but you are so soaked with malicious energy it will poison any effort to undo it. Comprende? Okay, good. Now let me look.”

Crowley put his hands on the soft fluff of nearly ruined feathers and then grasped the bone, outstretching the wing not minding the strangled yelp. It was...horrible. He squashed down the urge to extend his own, if only to make sure they were still alright. The white was nearly wholly swallowed by the rivets of gold with the few patches of black, where Beelzebub singed the small patches into non-recognizable melted mess of skin and plumage. This is where he started. First sponging the areas around and then lightly pouring lukewarm water on the burned wounds, cleaning and cooling them as best as he could.

Gabriel did not took that well. He squirmed, muffled his whimpers into his arm as he tried to draw away, no matter how gentle Crowley was trying to be.

“Beel, take his hand.” They ripped themselves from their spot in a blink of an eye, their fingers slipping into Archangel hand, holding tight. “Alright. Listen. I’m...I’m going to have to pluck some of those, the steams are half melted, but if they stay there...,” Crowley touched the wing, driving a line from the base, nearly to a point where the widest burn rested about 3/4 from full length.”The main muscle goes there, that’s why it’s more sensitive, but the damage here is not as deep as the others, so that's good news. We take feathers, new ones will grow. In time. But we don’t and it will always feel like somebody is jabbing at you with needles. You will fly either way, but decision is yours. Do you agree?”

Gabriel’s nod was as short and tight as he possibly could make it. Before Crowley plucked even one feather a thick sort of foreign energy filled the room and then snapped like an old rubber. He sighed as the small amount of the tension fell at first of Aziraphale’s wards was put in place. Gabriel took one shuddering breath before he raised his head and with difficulty looked at Crowley, his eyes filled with tears.  


“Thank you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Angel’s mouth crooked into pained smile at Crowley’s half-whine and ley on his forearms, stretching just enough to press his lips to Beelzebub’s forehead. They smiled up, squeezing his hand and moving the other through the dark sweaty hair. Crowley turned, looking instead somewhere in the direction where his own angel set very unkissed and uncuddled and out of his sight, deciding that he will have to rectify it as soon as he put their guests into some kind of order. 

“Right then. Here we go,” and Crowley leaned in and plucked the first damaged feather, preparing himself for a long, long day.


End file.
